House, sweet House
by Baby Moonlace
Summary: It's Albus' and Scorpius' sorting, but something doesn't go as planned...


**House, sweet House**

I was standing in the Great Room, among a crowd of other boys and girls, which became thinner and thinner while they got sorted. Merlin, I hated having a name that begun with "P".

I was near my cousin, Rose. She must have been nervous, because she kept biting her lower lip and spluttering random facts about how Hogwarts had been built. I had learnt ignoring her when she was like that.

I was getting so bored, I wanted to Avadra Kedavrize myself. Or Rose, who just wouldn't shut up. The names still were at "I". Well, the name was "Iziz" (Alexis, beautiful, dark-skinned girl, asseigned to Hufflepuff), so I just could hope they were done with that letter. Thank Merlin I was right. Yay, we were moving forward!

- Malfoy, Scorpius Hyperion. -, I couldn't help but chuckle. I mean, Scorpius Hyperion? That guy's name was worse than mine. And believe me, my name is really, really, really horrible.

Scorpius was a tall, handsome boy with sand colored hair and albino white skin. I think he heard me, because he glared at me with fierce, stormy gray eyes, a blonde eyebrow raised, daring me to laugh more. I admit it, I didn't have the guts. Scorpius looked away with a tiny, triumphant smile on his pale lips. He had won, and he knew it.

He walked to the Hat, not showing any sign of fright, or even nervousness. He must have been either really brave or really clueless. Or both.

The Hat had barely touched his head, when it shouted: - Gryffindor!

Scorpius stood, eyes wide, mouth hanging open. He could either be about to curse the hat with all his might, or start crying and begging for a second chance. Neither of this happened. He simply regained his composure, without much showing effort. I was impressed by his self control. I heard stories about the Malfoy' cold attitude, but I never thought they were this skilled. I had a clue about how Scorpius must have felt. No Malfoy in… Well, no Malfoy ever had been sorted to something different than Slytherin. Stress on "ever". Scorpius in Gryffindor was like me in Slytherin: incredible, impossible and absolutely horrible.

It took some time to the Gryffindors to process the thought of the heir of the Malfoy' fortune as one of them. Actually it took some time to the entire school to process the thought of Scorpius Malfoy, son of a Death Eater, voted most likely to become a world-known dark magician being sorted to Gryffindor.

I regarded him, looking for an hint of emotions on his face. As time went by, I noticed the slightest lips trembling. I wouldn't have seen it if I wasn't… well, me. I've quite got a talent in noticing what the most can't see.

However, I felt bad for him. That made two impossible things in less than five minutes: a Malfoy a Gryffindor, and me feeling sorry for someone. Since it was such a rare happening I decided letting my nature down and actually helping him. So I started clapping. I didn't know what else I could do. It worked. The Room unfroze, the Gryffindor table erupted in cheers, even louder than usual, if possible. Scorpius looked as if he was hardly paying attention. His cold gaze was on me. It took all my courage to look him in the eyes, they were so intense, they seemed to be burning straightforward into my soul. He gave me a small nod and an hesitant smile. And I knew, he must have noticed me starting the clapping.

He joined his Housemates, but kept his eyes on me. I knew, I had surprised him. He wasn't expecting such a friendly move from me. We were supposed to hate each other. But he had been sorted to Gryffindor. He surely wasn't that much of a bloody prat. No Gryffindor was. Maybe we could become friends, when I would be sorted out to Gryffindor, too. Because I would. The Hat wouldn't sort me in a House I didn't like. Dad told me.

Of course, Rose just couldn't shut up for more than thirty seconds, and she must have assumed she had been quiet and non-annoying far too long, so she started chanting the name of every Malfoy to walk the surface of earth, their parents, and which House they had been sorted to (Guess what!), just to check if she was right when she "assumed that the display we had just seen was pretty much unique" (her words).

I started taking long, relaxing breaths, trying to calm myself down without strangling her. I assumed that killing my cousin would get me in detention, and detention on the first school day wasn't on schedule. Plus I so didn't want to get in trouble with Aunt Hermione for murdering her daughter.

Thank Merlin, my name was called exactly when I thought, I couldn't take it anymore.

Rose screamed something along the lines of: – Al! It's your turn! Aren't you excited? This is the beginning of the rest of our lives. -, Thanks, Rosie. Really reassuring. I didn't have any more doubts. As soon as I was sorted, I was to strangle her.

I stepped towards the Hat. It was like time had slowed down. I could see and sense everything around me, from the encouraging smile Uncle Neville was giving me, to the raised eyebrows and the cat-like grin Scorpius was directing toward me from the Gryffindor table. I could almost hear him thinking "And you mocked me for my name? Yours is Albus Severus, for Merlin's sake!" His mocking smirk died as his Gryffindor self took control. His smile became encouraging, in memory of my acts of before. I had never been that grateful to have helped someone.

I walked to the Hat. I sat down, and placed the item on my head. It spoke, in a husky, raspy voice, and I couldn't make out if it was in my hears or directly in my head. _Potter, eh? You're just like your father. So many Houses. Oh, so many…_

_Yeah, if you say so__._

_I do, Mr. Potter, I do._

_You can hear my thoughts? _

_Of course, if not, how were__ I supposed to sort you?_

_Oh__. _I was feeling a bit dumb.

_So. Which house shall be yours? Hufflepuff? Surely not. You would grow frustrated in no time. Ravenclaw, then? No, again. You aren't enough intelligent, nor wise. _

_Gee, thanks!_I know, that wasn't very wise. Looks like the Hat was right.

It made a strange sound, like of shattered robes. With a start, I realized it was chuckling.

_My, my, Mr. Potter. You do have a forked tongue. Well, I think that decides it._

The Hat waited a while before shouting my sorting, to give my un-Ravenclaw-like brain the time to understand the implications of his words.

Forked tongue…

**Forked **tongue.

Oh Merlin!

Then, just then, the Hat sorted me. To Slytherin. Me. To **Slytherin**.

_Wait, you stupid, old__ sot of an Hat! You can't. I don't want to! Lets just erase and do this again!_

The Hat just chuckled again in his strange fashion, and said: _It's done._

The Slytherin table exploded in cheers a minute later, after they had recovered from shock, just like the Gryffindors had done after Scorpius' assignment.

I walked towards my new Housemates. A thought just wouldn't live my mind: _Forked tongue? Was that supposed to be funny? Guess hats don't have sense of humor, even when they're Hats._

Then another thought joined the party: _Oh Merlin, uncle Ron is so going to kill me!_


End file.
